


Sum of My Belongings

by CasMayaSutra



Series: Bollywood Beats & Destiel Treats [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Break Up, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post-Break Up, Really There is No Comfort, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 22:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12142446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasMayaSutra/pseuds/CasMayaSutra
Summary: Castiel makes a list of things he left behind when Dean broke up with him.





	Sum of My Belongings

**Author's Note:**

> I'm creating a series of one shots inspired by Hindi songs that I love. 
> 
> Movie: Ijaazat  
> Song: Mera Kuchh Samaan  
> Lyrics: Gulzar
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OlvXDGJAMT0

Sum of my Belongings

 

 ~~Darling~~ Dean

 

I received the boxes of my stuff that you sent on to Gabe’s apartment after I left. Thank you, that was very kind.

I fear you forgot to pack some of my belongings, perhaps in your haste to settle into your new life with Lisa.

Some seven rainy days, from that September. You remember? We told everyone we were on vacation, but really, just locked ourselves in at home for the whole week? Those days are packed up somewhere, for safekeeping. I'm sure you'll find them, if you look.

I stayed up one night, watching you sleep. So many thoughts, or perhaps just one, flitted through my mind as you snored lightly (Ok, snuffled perhaps, but just because you think you don’t snore.) I wrapped that night up in words, in my poetry. I placed it under my pillow. Did you find it, by chance? Perhaps you could return that, too?

The leaves in autumn, I used to watch you rake them. The rustling of those dry autumn leaves brought me so much peace, Dean. Because I knew you were near, then. I believe I may have forgotten that sound there. Would it be possible to pack that, that particular sound they made, so I may find some peace again?

Oh, and before I forget in my rambling, that rainy night, when the thunderstorm raged, as we ran from my brother, Raphael. I seem to remember somewhat your joy and laughter as we dashed through the pouring rain, one umbrella between us. I seem to have packed up the dry, pointless, cold memories from that night. Could you look for the warm ones, the ones drenched in our love? Perhaps they lie, forgotten, at the end of ~~our~~ your bed.

I had a hundred moonlit nights, I recall, and numerous moonless ones when we lay on the hood of the Impala, counting the stars. They should be in the same place where I keep the tally of your freckles. There must be many of those, and you may not remember this, but it was my favourite hobby, so understandably the collection is quite large. Oh and please, don’t forget: there should be some memories of when you pouted and pretended to be annoyed that I was counting your freckles **_again_**! Those are very precious and integral to my collection.

Oh, and there may be some broken promises scattered about. They are perhaps worthless to you now, unnecessary, but I find I still have need of them. Could you please send these along at your earliest?

And one last favour, my darling Dean, if I may.

Grant me permission, that wherever I bury these, our belongings, I may lay my head there, and sleep forever.

 

Yours (even if you no longer need me to be)

 

Castiel


End file.
